


Council Meetings

by Maggiemaye



Series: Under the Mountain [8]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Romantic Fluff, Sexual Tension, frisky!Tauriel, responsible!Kili
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 15:54:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4025872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maggiemaye/pseuds/Maggiemaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kili has found that the only thing more enticing to him than a fair elven vision is one who is solid and warm and playful, right next to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Council Meetings

Since his coronation at the tender age of eighty-three, King Fili Under the Mountain has made it a policy to gather his council for weekly meetings in which they can advise him. Over the years he has needed less and less advice, but the meetings are still held without fail. The king’s council consists mostly of the company that had reclaimed Erebor, though over the years a few members have been invited into the fold.

Kili is often not sure what to do with himself during these meetings. They all sit around a massive stone table inlaid with sapphires and discuss law or other such matters that Kili isn’t particularly well-versed in. His area of expertise lies more in politics, negotiating trade and other such things that require charm and a spine of steel. It is a necessary evil, he has found, of being a real, functioning prince. Though he would much rather be with the guard full-time, he occasionally has to trade his armor for courtly garb.

He leans back in his chair, playing absently with a decorative button on his tunic and hoping that the meeting will be short today. There is a buzz around the table as the assembled council waits for the stragglers to arrive. Finally, Dwalin enters the room, making noise about suspicious activity to the north. The rest of the dwarves roll their eyes and give him trouble; Dwalin is either early or late to everything, regardless of the excuse he might give.

Tauriel strides in behind him, garbed in the deep blue of Erebor and displaying the intricate braids Kili had given her that morning. She prefers not to have beads woven into the braids (her hair is so fine that they simply slide out), which is off-putting to everyone but Kili himself. He cares very little for courtly traditions and trinkets; as long as Tauriel is there at his side, she can arrange her lovely hair however she pleases.

She smiles a greeting at the assembled dwarrow and takes the open seat to Kili’s left. He grins up at her, taking a moment to admire a stray lock of red hair that has fallen across the delicate curve of her ear. Fili calls the meeting to order, but Kili is preoccupied with a daydream of sweeping that errant hair behind her ear, brushing her skin as he goes.

It is not often that Kili and Tauriel have the chance to steal a moment to themselves. When they aren’t working, they spend much of their time trying to keep their children from pummeling each other. Kili wouldn’t trade it, of course. He thanks Mahal every day for the opportunity to lead the life he does.

But there are times when it gets…tiring.

The last time he and Tauriel had found themselves alone for an evening (Dis having taken all four of her half-elven grandchildren off their parents’ hands), the two of them had fallen into bed—and slept for thirteen hours. Not a _bad_ use of their time, per se, but Kili can think of other things they have not done in a while.

Apparently Tauriel is of a similar mind. He nearly jolts out of his chair when he feels her fingers begin to rub slow, languid circles on the inside of his knee, beneath the table. Her touch is light as a breath, sending shivers straight up his leg. Kili smothers the hitch in his breathing with a cough; Balin and Fili look at him but seem to notice nothing amiss. He glances over at his wife and is impressed with the absolute blankness of her expression. Somehow she is even managing to keep her shoulder perfectly still as her hand travels farther up his thigh. She doesn’t look at him once. Kili is torn between the desire to laugh or throw his head back and sigh at her clever touch.

He can do neither, of course, because they are in a meeting. Of course she would choose this particular time to tease him. Anyone who says that elves have no sense of humor has clearly never met his wife—or perhaps she has just spent too many years among dwarves. Kili can practically feel the amusement radiating from her as she focuses politely on whatever Balin is saying.

She finds _that_ spot on his inner thigh, the one that sends heat flooding his body. It is enough to make his eyes roll back, especially when she trades her fingertips for the harder pressure of her knuckles. Kili grips the edges of his chair for dear life as the delicious waves wash over him; he tries desperately to look attentive, but his awareness has traveled south at breakneck speed.

“There will need to be an envoy to Rivendell, of course,” Fili’s voice sounds as distant as a dream to Kili’s ears. He suspects the only reason he has registered the statement at all is the way his wife perks up at the mention of travel. He blinks a time or two and finds that Fili is looking their way.

“Of course,” Tauriel says, inclining her head. She turns to Kili and smiles, giving his thigh a squeeze. “The children have never travelled. We could take them along with us, and make some stops along the way. What do you think, Kili?”

His answer is vaguely coherent and involves a lot of nodding. Tauriel smirks and turns back to face the table, letting her fingers begin to wander again as the conversation moves to other matters.

By the time closing remarks are made Kili is in a daze. It is all he can do not to simply grab her hand and press it _higher_ , exactly where he wants it-

“Kili and I will stay and review the route,” Tauriel says in a smooth voice as the others stand to leave. Kili nearly whines at the loss of her touch when she stands as well. He manages a nod and grunt to his friends as they exit, and Tauriel shuts the door behind them.

She turns to face him with eyes like a hawk considering her prey. Kili swallows.

“I hope you enjoyed yourself,” he says around a ragged breath, unable to hide a smile.

Her reply is a wide, wicked grin. She takes her seat next to him again, and Kili’s legs widen of their own accord to give her more room to play. Really, they _should_ be leaving. The council chamber is far from a secluded location, and now that the meeting has adjourned, dwarrow will assume it is unoccupied. And besides, they really should not be behaving so carelessly in the first place.

“The idea was for _you_ to enjoy yourself,” she says, and the mischief in her eyes would be imperceptible to any but him. He has had decades to learn her subtleties.

“Tauriel.” He is trying to sound stern. “We are respectable adults. Royalty.”

“That we are, my love,” she agrees into the juncture of his neck and shoulder, pulling his tunic aside. Her low voice is a pleasant thrum against his skin, setting his pulse pounding.

The responsible part of his brain is shouting at him to end this before someone interrupts them. But that voice is quickly drowned out by the sounds of his wife’s mouth on him, the warm flick of her tongue in the crease of his neck. She is exaggerating, making it more obscene than it needs to be, to tease him further. Kili has to admit that it is working; a particularly noisy smack of her lips sends an urgent tingling sensation through all corners of his body. He white-knuckles the chair, fighting the overpowering urge to grab his wife by the hips regardless of where they are.

He remembers a time when he had thought elves aloof and untouchable. Maybe they are, generally. Tauriel herself had been quite reserved when they had first begun courting, so much so that he’d often wondered if she was just a dream after all. Time and trust have done away with that perception, however. Now he is close enough to smell the sweat in her hair, and hear the little gusty breaths she sends through her nose. He feels her eyelashes brush the underside of his chin as her tongue circles his Adam’s apple. Kili has found that the only thing more enticing to him than a fair elven vision is one who is solid and warm and playful, right next to him.

He grabs Tauriel’s intrepid hand as it travels dangerously far up his leg. If he lets _that_ progress any further, the responsible voice in his head won’t be heard again for a long while.

“We’re in public, in case you forgot,” he says, trying once again to be the voice of reason. “And this door doesn’t lock.”

He feels her lips around his earlobe, which is absolutely _not fair._ His groan is embarrassingly loud and long, and Tauriel hums triumphantly.

“Tauriel,” he gasps out. “I’m serious. Anyone could walk in. Dwalin…my _mother_ could walk in.”

She pulls away from him quite abruptly, and Kili immediately wants to take his words back. But a smile is still playing around her lips.

“You are right. Of course.”

Kili nods, using the break in his wife’s assault on his senses to adjust his clothing and catch his breath. He is a little appalled at himself; apparently diplomacy and princely duties have purged the recklessness right out of him.

“We do have a bedchamber, if you’ll recall. With a good, sturdy dwarvish lock.”

 _Oh._ Somehow he had forgotten this detail.

“The children—“

“Are in class for another hour,” she says, negating his last weak protest. Her smile is sweet, with just the right amount of impishness behind it.

Kili needs no further convincing. Leaving the maps forgotten on the council table, he practically races her out the door.

“Kili!” she calls from behind him.

“Hurry up or I’m starting without you!” he yells, drawing a few strange looks from passerby. He can hear Tauriel’s faint laughter behind him as they rush down the halls. They are not _running,_ of course, but their pace is considerably more enthusiastic than decorum dictates. The thought only makes Kili grin even wider.

Perhaps there is still a bit of recklessness left in him, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to try something just a tad spicier for these two ;) Gotta keep that spark alive, especially when your lifespan is several centuries, right? 
> 
> Got any ideas for Kiliel/family moments you want to see? Let me know in the comments!


End file.
